Something More
by lilgulie5
Summary: A Quick One-shot. Set between Ballads and Hairography. Puck talks to Quinn after he finds out that she has been kicked out of her house.


**A/N: Welcome! So this is a little one-shot that I started awhile ago, forgot about it, lost the notebook it was in and then found again. It is set in between Ballads and Hairography, so Quinn has already been thrown out of her house but the Babysitting/Sexting hasn't happened yet. I really hope you enjoy this! Xoxo-Katie**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

He could barely control his anger when Finn told him that her parents kicked her out, but he knew that he couldn't show anything more that friendly concern. He didn't know who he was angrier with: her father for kicking her out, Finn for not standing up for her more, or himself for not being the one who was there with her. He knew exactly what _he_ would have done if he was there that night. He would have pulled her out of that house before her father even had the chance to kick her out. Better than that, he would have punched him in the face, told her mom that he was Jewish and that her ham sucked before helping Quinn pack her things. But he wasn't there. Instead, he had to see how broken she looked the next day when she climbed out of Finn's car. He didn't know what was worse: hearing from his best friend about what happened to her, or knowing that he was the one who caused it all.

"I'm sorry," he said, pulling her aside after school. Quinn had been on her way to the library because Finn had to practice something with Berry for Glee.

"For what?" she asked, pretending not to know what he was talking about. She was always so good at hiding the way she really felt about something.

"You know what. I'm sorry your parents-."

"I _really_ don't want to talk about my parents right now."

"Where are you staying?"

"With Finn. Who else would I stay with?"

"Me."

"I'm leaving now," she said and Puck caught her by the wrist and pulled her into a familiar janitor's closet.

"We need to tell Finn the truth."

"_No_ we don't."

"He's going to find out sooner or later, don't you think we should be the ones to tell him?"

"Listen to me. I told you, I will go to be grave swearing this baby is Finn's."

"I care about you," Puck tried, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. He was surprised that she didn't flinch away from his touch. "I could take care of you, both of you."

For a moment, he could tell that her guard was slipping. The head-bitch-in-charge was giving way to the vulnerable beauty that lay underneath. Just as soon as it appeared however, it was gone.

"If you care about me, you'll do what I ask you to do."

"And what would that be?" he asked, feeling the anger well up inside of him, not at her, but at Finn for always getting everything he wanted.

"Leave me alone, please. If you want to help, then please just do what I'm asking you to do."

"I will, if you can do one thing."

"What's that?"

"Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't care about me; that you don't have feelings for me."

"Puck, no, this is ridiculous," Quinn said and tried to push past him but he laid his hand over the doorknob.

"Tell me, and I will leave you alone. I'll never ask you how you are or about the baby. I'll never stop by your locker after second period when Finn isn't around to bring you a chocolate chip bagel with peanut butter. I won't accidentally touch your hand anymore when we're practicing a dance for glee. I'll stop thinking about you so much. Just say you don't give a damn about me and it'll be like I'm invisible. Just tell me."

Quinn tore her eyes away from his and stared at her hands as she tried to absorb what Puck had just said. It would be so easy to just tell him she didn't have feelings for him, to get him to stop making her feel so guilty every time Finn kissed her. It would be an end to everything. It would bring about what she had said she wanted, but it would also be a lie. She looked up at him, into his warm brown eyes and saw the same sadness that had been there when she had "ridden" away from him on Finn's wheelchair. She hated that look because she knew that she had put it there too many times. She was so _tired_ of hurting people, of hurting herself.

"I can't," she finally said in a strained voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" Puck, not completely sure of what she had said.

"I can't tell you that I don't care about you or have feelings for you. I wish I could, but I can't."

"Why do you _wish_ that you could?"

"Because, it would make everything _so_ much simpler," Quinn sighed. "Because then, I wouldn't have to lie to Finn and to everyone else, and to myself and I wouldn't be hurting you anymore by-."

Puck cut her off by capturing her lips with his own, certain that she would push him away and slap him before bolting from the closet, but she didn't. Instead, Quinn leaned into him slightly and he couldn't resist placing a hand on the small of her back and pulling her closer.

"I don't care if you hurt me," he said, breaking their kiss.

"_I _care," she replied, resting a hand on his chest and biting her bottom lip. "You deserve to be with someone that won't do that to you."

"Stop saying that. I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all, at least I know I'm still alive."

It was Quinn's turn to seek out his lips, sighing into him as her arms wound their way around his neck. He could feel her entire body pressed against him, including the small, but now noticeable, bump that made him feel happy and sad and scared shitless all at the same time. Puck slowly backed her up and in one swift, easy, motion lifted her up onto a ledge that had been built into the wall, deepening their kiss. He let his hands wander from her back to her soft hair, tangling his fingers in the silky tresses.

Quinn felt her world spinning too fast, but that was nothing new when it came to Puck. He'd always had a habit of catching her off guard, of scaring her just a little bit. _This is real,_ a voice inside her said. _This is how you're supposed to feel, how you're supposed to be loved, if you would just let yourself. This could be yours._ Her eyes snapped open at the last thought when the hard realization sunk in. This was _not_ hers; _he_ couldn't be hers because she already belonged to someone else, someone she was too afraid to lose.

"Puck," she murmured against his kiss. "We need to stop."

"Why?" he practically moaned.

"Look at where we are."

"We're in a janitor's closet."

"Exactly. We're always going to be in a janitor's closet, or underneath the bleachers, or waiting for my parents to be out of the house, or sneaking out late at night."

"We don't have to be that way," Puck said softly as he traced his thumb across her cheek.

"Puck-."

"I wanna be with you."

Not once in the entire time she had known him had Quinn heard Noah Puckerman sounds so sincere. He looked at her like he could see into her soul; see what she wanted and needed better than she could and it scared her beyond belief.

"I can't, _we_ can't," she stammered as she slid off of the ledge and nudged past him, pausing at the door. "If things were different, if _we_ were different…"

"But we're not," he replied sadly, turning around to face her. "We're Puck and Quinn."

"I'm so sorry, Puck."

She slipped out the door, leaving him alone in the dimly lit closet that smelled of bleach and her perfume to contemplate what had just happened.

"I'm not," Puck replied, knowing that she was halfway to the library and would never hear him.

The next day, he showed up at her locker after second period, napkin-wrapped bagel in hand and walked Quinn to her third period class without either of them saying a word. A quiet understanding hung between them. She knew what she could say to make him leave, make him stop, but she never said it and so he stayed there, ready, waiting and hoping one day for something more.


End file.
